298 AC, King's Landing…
The Stark household was having dinner in the Tower of the Hand but the usual air of happiness of Winterfell did not exist as the Stark sisters were having a fight with their cold stares. Seeing the tense situation between the sisters Ned decided to give them some good news.
"Girls, the king is organizing a tourney for my honour so both of you shall be present at the event."
Sansa's eyes had grown wide as the steak on his plate. "A tourney, "She was seated as far from Arya as possible. "Can I sit with Prince Joffrey, please father!"
Ned grunted at his daughter's eagerness to be with the crown prince, as far as he was concerned, the prince was the worst possible choice for a suitable husband. "Yes, both you and Arya will be seated with the crown prince."
"I don't care about their stupid tourney and prickly prince," Arya said. She hated Prince Joffrey so much that she wished that day Nymeria killed him.
Sansa snorted. "Prince Joffrey won't be excited to see you too, Arya Horseface."
Ned's eyes spat fire as he looked at his eldest daughter. "Enough, Sansa. Apologize from your sister immediately! I want to see you behave properly, next time." He turned his head to Septa Mordane, "I don't want this to be repeated, especially in the King's Landing."
Septa Mordane's face turned red and she answered meekly, "Yes, my lord." Then, she looked at the eldest Stark daughter, awaiting her to apologize to her sister.
Sansa looked at her hands and muttered lowly, "I am sorry."
Ned sighed deeply. "I find I did not have any appetite left tonight." His cold eyes were ever-present on his face as he looked to his household while raising himself from the table. He left the hall in slow steps to show that he was serious about his words.
As soon as Ned left the hall, all occupants began chatting between themselves about the tourney. However, one person was scowling at everyone in the hall.
Arya was the only one left alone on the table and she wished to be at Winterfell again with her brothers and her wolf, Nymeria. She hated King's Landing and she hated her sister. Her only friend was dead because of her.
"He was my friend, "Arya whispered into her plate. She wished to go to the only place she treasured in King's Landing, her room so she stood up from the table but the ever-watchful eyes of Septa Mordane were on her.
"Pray, where do you think you are going, young lady?" Septa Mordane asked.
"I'm not hungry." Arya played nicely to escape from this cursed place, "May I be excused, please?"
"You may not," septa said, "You will sit and eat everything on your plate."
"You eat it!" Before anyone could stop her, Arya bolted for the doors as the men laughed and Septa Mordane raised herself hurriedly.
However, none could reach her as she entered her room and put the bar down. She finally was safe enough to cry her heart out. She missed her home, that light snow covering the distant hills, the tales of Old Nan, the tranquillity of the Godswood and Jon.
Jon was her best friend and best brother. She was the one who always helped her when she was escaping from the senile septa. She wished he was here with her so they could play in the long corridors of this big castle.
Arya went to the chest at the foot of her bed and opened the lid. She began pulling her clothes out with both hands and threw them to the room. Finally, she reached the bottom and took out a long and slender blade.
Needle.
She thought of the butcher's boy, Mycah again and her eyes teared. If she had never asked him to play at swords with her then maybe…
A pounding sounded at her door. "Arya Stark, open this door at once, do you hear me? Your father will hear of this if you don't!"
"Go away," Arya screamed.
Sometime later, a soft knock came from the door and took Arya away from her thoughts. "Arya, open the door. We need to talk."
Arya heard his father's voice so, albeit reluctantly, she lifted the bar and opened the door. Her father came in and closed the door behind him. He looked to Arya and seeing the sword on her hand he squinted his eyes, "Whose sword is that?"
"Mine," Arya spoke absentmindedly.
"Give it to me."
Arya surrendered her sword while holding the hem of her clothes. She wondered whether this was the last time she was going to see the Needle.
Ned studied the sword closely and discovered Mikken's, Winterfell's blacksmith's mark on it. "This is Mikken's work."
Ned sighed deeply. "My daughter is being armed and I'm not informed about it. How did you get this, Arya?" Seeing her not answering he said, "This is no toy for children. What would Septa Mordane say if she knew you were playing with swords?"
"Septa Mordane is not of the North. She already made Sansa a broodmare, I don't want to become like her!" Arya yelled with tears in her eyes. "Besides, Mormonts use swords too."
"And pray tell me, why do Mormonts use swords?" Ned did not wait for him to answer, "Because their lands are frequently attacked by Ironborn and wildlings. And why should you be allowed to use a sword while no one attacks Winterfell or you?"
Ned's questions bombarded Arya as she was dumbfounded but the last question was fresh in her mind so she spoke what she was thinking. "If I had known how to hold a sword, I would have disarmed Joffrey with Needle and Mycah would not have died!" Tears were already dripping from her eyes and her lips went white as she was pressing them together so hard.
Ned hugged her daughter gently as she sobbed against his chest. "You should not blame yourself for the butcher's boy, Arya. The murder lies at the Hound's door, him and the cruel woman he serves."
"I hate them," Arya bellowed out, red-faced. "The Hound, the queen, the king and Prince Joffrey, all of them. I hate Sansa too. She did remember but did not say anything so Joffrey would like her."
"We have to lie sometimes, Arya. Sansa is betrothed to Joffrey and going to marry him someday. What would have happened if she told the truth?" Ned asked.
"Joffrey would have been angry with her…" Arya spoke while looking at the ground.
"Yes, both of you may be as different as the moon and the sun but you need to look after each other. Remember what I always say, when the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives." Ned caressed her cheek. "We have come to a dark dangerous place, child. You saw what happened to Bran when those people came to Winterfell. We have enemies here who mean us ill. We can only trust our family, no one else."
Ned took Needle from the bed and gave it to Arya. "Here, take it."
Arya looked at the sword with wonder in her eyes. "Can I keep it?" she asked.
"You can." He smiled, "Besides if I took it away, no doubt I'd find a warhammer hidden under your pillow. Just try not to stab your sister."
"I won't. I promise." Arya took the Needle and spoke as her father took his leave.
…
Three days later, Arya was summoned by her father to the hall of Hand of the Tower. She was expecting to be scolded as she escaped from Septa Mordane's lesson just an hour ago. However, she met with a short man and an empty table.
"Who are you?" Arya asked and that was the beginning of her lessons for the sword.
…
Port of Ibben…
While the King of the Seven Kingdoms and his Hand travelled to King's Landing, the Prophet sailed to the Port of Ibben before the liberation of Pentos and Myr. He was certain that the liberation was going to be successful and the coalition was not going to stop him from going to the Shivering Sea as he took precautions against them.
Only Trios, Kobo and several holy guards were accompanying him and he was not sailing in his big ship. He was using a normal Essosi ship to prevent being pursued by coalition forces.
Port of Ibben was the main city on Ib and the largest city of Ibben. The grey, gloomy port had cobbled alleys, steep hills and teeming docks and shipyards. The city was lit by whale-oil lamps supplied by their own hunters. If a man stood on the port, he would be able to see the ruins of the God-King's castle.
It did not take long for them to anchor at the port and there were already some priests waiting for them. Though this time, the priests were not believers but heretics. The worshippers of Kagak were the ones who were waiting for them.
Kagak was the God of Sea, Stone and Sky. His worshippers had a hierarchy of a high priest and priests. Though their purpose was to maintain and ensure the survival of the faith rather than offer counsel or guidance.
"Welcome to the Ibben, Propeta" The priest in a black garb spoke in Valyrian.
Gerold found the man's accent a bit weird but still, it was at an acceptable level. He nodded his head simply and did not say anything. There was a nervous expression on the priest's face and he was constantly scratching his hairy hands.
"This way," The priest spoke simply and left towards the inner sections of the city. Usually, foreigners were not allowed inside the city and they were only able to roam the port. However, with an Ibbenese escort, they could get into the city.
Men of Ib were hairy to the standards of Essosi and Westerosi. And even their women had beards on their face. Though all of them had colourful eyes so it was creating a stark contrast in a sense.
Most of the people on the streets were descendants of the previous generations whale hunters so the whole city smelled like a fish pit. Their colourful eyes were trained upon the man who did not smell like a fish and had no beard on his face. However, what got their attention was not the man, rather the gorilla beside him.
Gerold could hear from the murmurs that they were shocked at seeing such a creature taller than them. Kobo was already nearing three meters and he weighed 400 kilograms. He could crush a man's skull with just one of his hands and if not for the big smile on his face, he would have been scary enough to scare them away.
On the other hand, Gerold was considering himself lucky as he did not want to attract too much attention to himself on this journey but the attention on Kobo was still the same thing as no one other than him had a pet like him.
Gerold's purpose for coming here was actually on a request from the high priest. Contrary to others and to his surprise, they were open to conversion and accepted him being the Prophet as a fact. However, they still had a request in return of being converted.
If Gerold could convert the high priest of the Kagak, his job here would accelerate at a tremendous pace so he had decided to see whether this request was something he could handle.
Soon, they left the boundaries of the city and walked up on a mountain road and reached a temple. The temple was a modest one and it was made from wooden logs. However, every log had an engraving on it and every engraving had only one similarity; a whale with wings and legs...